


just another accidental on the freeway of this life

by captain_fives



Series: you only live forever in the lights you make (void flare!verse) [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album)
Genre: Affectionate Siblings, First Meetings, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insomnia, Nicknames, Nightmares, Nonbinary Party Poison, Panic Attacks, Siblings, Tags will be added with chapters, Team as Family, Zone Life, vague implications of sleep paralysis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-17 21:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19963576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_fives/pseuds/captain_fives
Summary: Oneshot requests within the void flare!verse - anecdotes, headcanon exploration, missing scenes. All that fun stuff.





	1. worse than tremors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: may I request a oneshot of what happens after either Party or Kobra has a really bad nightmare?

Kobra wakes up with a choke, a half-spoken word catching at the back of his throat.

Eyes flicking around at the dark corners of the room, he waits for his lungs to start working properly again. One hand curls tight in the sheets as the other clutches at his old sleep shirt, just above the place where his heart rabbits beneath his ribs - sending blood pounding through his head loud enough to hear.

He can't move; he knows better than to try before the tension eases. It still scares him every time; being frozen in place, unable to sit up or pull the blanket back where it's been kicked further down the mattress.

Kobra drags in a ragged breath, trying to force his heaving lungs into some kind of regular rhythm. Something moves in the corner of his vision, and he slams his eyes shut, heart rate spiking. An involuntary whimper escapes him as he tries to think of what he's supposed to do in case of panic, but his brain is filling with static and he can't piece it together.

A soft yellow light flickers on beside him, glowing gently through his closed lids, but he barely notices it, hand on his chest now digging in it's clenched so tight. He's pretty sure he's crying now, quiet sobs half-strangled by his inability to breathe normally, but the static begins to drown them out and he doesn't care.

The mattress dips, and a gentle hand touches his shoulder briefly before moving to push back the strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. It disappears for a second before returning with a scrap of cloth, softly patting at the tears making their bid for escape. 'I got you, K, just breathe,' a voice from somewhere above him says, and the familiar sound cuts through the fuzz in his brain. _Poison._

He's shaking in the aftermath of fear and adrenaline, but the hand tangled in the sheets still manages to unclench itself and reach to curl in the fabric of his sibling's hoodie, seeking reassurance. They're here. They're fine. At least... they sound fine. Kobra opens his eyes, a shuddering breath of relief leaving him as Poison's face comes into view - forehead wrinkled in concern and yesterday's red liner smudged beneath their eyes, blending with their ever-present dark circles. There's a gentle smile on their face, though, hand carding through his hair. 'Hey, Kid. Bad night?'

Kobra nods, eyes drifting shut again, exhausted. Poison carefully pulls him upright, holding on tight as he shivers in their arms. They say nothing for a while, letting him muffle his sobs in their shoulder as they sit there on the edge of the mattress.

Eventually, his heart and his lungs and the jumbled mess in his brain all slow to a more sensible pace. Poison tugs a blanket around the both of them when Kobra's teeth start to chatter, rubbing at his arms with sweater-pawed hands to chase away the cold.

And then they just sit, holding on to each other, the lantern light casting soft shadows on the walls.

He breathes, focusing on what he can sense around him. There is some shuffling around outside the Diner - probably a coyote or someone coming back from the outhouse. Kobra tries not to think of Dracs mounting a sneak attack, Korse coming to get his revenge, to take them back to the city. Someone is snoring in the next room - probably Jet. Otherwise, the world is quiet, except for the soft thump of Poison's heart next to his ear. His sibling's hand is in his hair again, gently combing over his scalp in rhythmic motions. Calming. Reassuring. They smell mildly of coffee and desert-heat sweat and the faint tang of ozone that always seems to cling to them, but he doesn't mind. It reminds him they're not a figment of his imagination.

There was a time, once, not as long ago as any of them would like to think, where that had been a constant issue. He doesn't like to think about it much. It still haunts his dreams every so often, though, not to mention those of his sibling - there's a reason he and Poison share a room, and it's because of nights like tonight. He huffs out a shaky breath, blinking into the dark as a strand of their hair tickles his forehead.

'Think you can sleep?' they ask quietly, and Kobra frowns. It's a valid question, but he has to take a few seconds before answering. Can he sleep now, after that? True, he's even more exhausted now, but sleeping comes with its own problems.

In the end, it's a fairly simple decision; Poison is here, and for now, he feels safe. He can at least try.

Letting go, he lets his sibling shuffle around so they're leaning against the wall, before curling up beside them, head pillowed on their leg as they tuck the blanket around him. 'Leave the lamp on for a bit?'  
''Til I'm sure you're asleep, K,' Poison replies, hand settling protectively in his hair again, and he nods, closing his eyes.

He thinks of the dark circles beneath their lids, the way their skin is so often pale-cast in the light, and feels a little guilty. 'Don' forget to sleep too, dumbass,' he mumbles, already drifting, and he feels more than hears the answering sound of amusement - though there is something broken within the chuckle it comes out as. 'I never forget,' comes the reply, and Kobra lets out a frustrated huff. _No, you just don't do it._

Exhaustion finally claims him a moment after, and he falls asleep to the sound of his older sibling humming a tune he can't place, but feels like he knows.

Keeping themself awake to avoid their own demons.

 _Next time_ , his last coherent thought process promises, _you won't go through it alone. I'm here too. We take care of each other, like we promised._

_You'll be alright._

_I promise, Poison, you'll be alright._


	2. i'm who i've got to be, part one: "jet star"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rainbow-est-slinky asked: what are your headcanons as to how the Fab 4 and Void got their killjoy names?
> 
> This one got long so I had to split it into parts. Enjoy!

Zone-born children don't really have proper names, growing up.

When Desert Rose's son is first placed in her arms, she can't help but laugh at the already-curling tuft of hair on his head, and nicknames him Little Lion. _So you feel brave, my baby_ , she thinks as she falls asleep with the infant bundled close to her chest. In the morning, she hopes, his father will return, having finished leading the untimely Drac patrol on a wild goose chase through Zone 5.

He never does. She continues forward nevertheless, showering her little dust angel with all the love and wisdom she has to give until the sickness lingering in her lungs takes her. Little Lion is only nine, but he remembers his mother's strength and determination, and tries to live up to the title she gave him. Desert Rose's crew looks after him like he's their own child, and he never lacks for care and affection - they promised her that, after all.

His only regret is being too afraid to say goodbye.

He gains several nicknames during his time in Zone 5. As well as the ubiquitous "Motorbaby" that 'joy-raised children are almost always referred to with, Sugar Crash calls him Songbird as they teach him to play his mother's guitar, and Disco Devil and Firebomb like to yell "DESERT LAMB!" through the old warehouse that serves as their hideout when he refuses to come down from the third level for evening meal. Little Lion answers to all of them, and any and all nicknames he's given from then on.

He understands impermanence young. It's part of the Zones, that nothing lasts forever.

* * *

When he turns 14 he becomes friends with another young zoner named Show Pony, who works as a messenger for Dr. Death-Defying, and along with Sugar Crash they're the ones who take him to his first Mad Gear gig.

The music sings through all his nerves, and he dissolves into the crowd, jumping up and down with eyes bright and smile nearly cracking his face in half. As he stands in the front row next to the rest of the younger zoners present, the singer - that's right, _Mad Gear himself_ \- invites him up on stage for the crowd-stomping song, and when asked, he admits he can play.

Mad Gear hands over his guitar with a wide grin, and nods encouragement as he starts the opening riff. The crowd goes wild as he hits every note, chanting the chorus like they always do, and he has never felt more electrified in his life.

The band members pat him on the back and shake his hand as he leaves the stage at the end of the song, and Mad Gear calls for a round of applause 'for our talented guest star!'

Crash hugs him tight after the gig, and tells him his mother would be proud if she could have seen him on that stage. 'You're a star, songbird, don't you forget it,' they whisper, and he hugs them back with all he has, thankful for them and the rest of the crew who taught him how to follow in her footsteps.

They're right. No matter where he ends up, he is a star.

He hopes he can always be a bright one.

* * *

At 16, Disco Devil starts teaching him how to shoot a zapper. So far he's been making do with a homemade catapult, shooting rocks and bottlecaps at hanging cans, snakes, and feral cats trying to get into their food store.

He's already a pretty good shot, but a catapult is not a gun.

Dev makes this very clear during his first lesson, emphasising the fact that he needs to be the sharpest aim he possibly can with this new weapon - hitting one of his crewmates during a clap will cause real injury, or possibly even death. Lasers and bottlecaps are very different levels of pain.

So he practices and practices, over and over for months, shooting at cans until he can hit them straight from the hip eight times out of ten. Dev is insanely proud, grabbing him and spinning around when he shows off what he's learned. 'The fastest draw in Zone 5, our little star!' she yells as the others laugh at her exuberance. 'Like a supersonic jet!'

He grins, and something clicks in his head, filing itself away, though he's too busy celebrating to really pay it any mind.

* * *

When he reaches 21, Crash gets dusted and the others are badly injured in a clap with an Exterminator.

The remainder of the crew decides to move further out and further north, away from Route Guano to one of the settlements where they can recover. Something in their eyes, though, says they've had enough for a while.

He decides to stay.

Pony and Doc have offered to let him bunk at the Radio Shack in exchange for becoming their scavenger - freeing up Pony to run more messages - and he gladly accepts, knowing he's too antsy to stay in a village for any length of time.

It doesn't mean it hurts any less to watch his family leave.

Firebomb grabs his hand as he helps them all get settled in the van - Hot Chimp offered to pick them up, and they were happy for the assist - and his eyes prick with tears as he gets pulled into a group embrace. Devil twisting awkwardly to lock her arms around his shoulders. 'I'll miss you.'  
'So'll we, Little Lion,' Firebomb replies, gently smoothing down his wild hair, 'but you ain't so little anymore and you've gotta find your way now.'  
'I know.'  
'But you'll always be our star baby, yeah? Faster on the draw than a motherfuckin' jet plane.'  
'I know.'

They hold him for a long minute before Chimp coughs awkwardly from the front. 'Gotta get going if we want to be in 5 before the heat hits.'

He steps back from the van and closes the door with damp trails on his face that he can't be bothered to wipe away. Dev curls close to Bomber in the back seat and waves through the tiny window as they pull out onto the Getaway Mile.

Something clicks in his mind again, and this time he listens, mulling it over as Pony skates up to offer a consoling pat on the back. 'How you doin', man?'  
'It hurts.'  
'I know,' Pony replies, and their eyes are far away so he pulls his friend a little closer in consolation. They sniff quietly, clearing their throat, before rolling around to look him in the face and smiling at what they find there. 'You figured it out, didn'cha?'

He grins back, and straightens his shoulders. Oh, he did.

He's a real killjoy now.

* * *

Sometimes, he likes to walk around the southern area of Zone 3 in the evenings, around the back roads and through the scrub, sometimes visiting the little settlement that's popped up there in the last few years.

Sometimes Pony comes along if they're not busy, skating loops around him, but mostly he's alone with the wind and the birds and the sand.

That's where he finds another runner sprawled at the side of a track. Bloodied and pale, sure, but still kicking - as he quickly finds out when he shakes the seemingly unconscious guy's shoulder and gets a startled, reflexive punch in the nose for his efforts before the half-dead zoner passes out again. And that (with a stinging face and the unwieldy task of getting a deadweight back to the radio shack) -

\- is how Jet Star first meets the Kobra Kid.


End file.
